


I may be crazy

by exbex



Series: You May Be Right [7]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Anal Sex, Costume Kink, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Oral Sex, Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-13 19:45:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7983886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exbex/pseuds/exbex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack knows what a cliché it is. That doesn’t stop him from wanting it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I may be crazy

**Author's Note:**

> Check Please! belongs to Ngozi Ukazu.

Jack knows what a cliché it is. That doesn’t stop him from wanting it.

“I just don’t think my French is good enough, Honey.”

Bitty is a terrible actor. He’s biting his lower lip and trying to feign concern, but Jack knows when he’s being laughed at. 

He responds by lunging at his boyfriend, feeling Bitty’s smaller frame shake with laughter beneath his own as he kisses him.

“It’s okay,” he finally responds. “I have an excellent imagination.”

“Mmm hmm,” Bitty murmurs between kisses. “Show me what you’re imagining right now.”

**

It recedes to the back of Jack’s mind, for the most part, and has the decency not to come out at inopportune times, and Jack doesn’t t bring it up again.

So when he comes home from a roadie a few weeks later, he’s struck speechless by the sight before him. Bitty in the kitchen is nothing new, of course; that’s like coming home to a familiar blanket; comforting and unobtrusive. But what Jack sees now is, well, ‘pleasant surprise’ isn’t exactly the right phrase, but the effect is somewhere between the pleasantness of walking into water on a hot summer day, the moment after the initial cold is shocking, and the way a bite of food can be much better than anticipated, when you’re expecting something familiar and you’re suddenly marveling at how flavorful it is.

“Bonjour, mon amour,” Bitty greets, his eyes wide but a bit too mischievous to really convey the innocence he’s attempting.

It really shouldn’t make Jack weak in the knees, because Bitty’s right; his French is just north of terrible. But Jack can’t help but find it endearing in that accent that he’s come to love, and he can’t help but slowly rake his eyes over his boyfriend’s body, because Bitty has not only acquired the French maid outfit but somehow he’s managed to alter it so that it completely flatters his frame.

Bitty’s wearing a smirk on his face that Jack wants to either memorize or kiss off of him. Ultimately, he does neither, dropping to his knees on the hard kitchen floor, ignoring his body’s protests and reaching for Bitty’s thighs, pulling him closer and ducking his head beneath the short, black skirt, pleased to discover that there’s nothing to push out of his way, and he actually hums as he sucks his boyfriend’s cock right into his mouth, any pain in his knees forgotten.

“Oh, Jack,” Bitty moans as he grips the edges of the counter, and then manages to stir up enough of an accent that “Tu es un bon garçon,” causes Jack to go from teasing licks to an A-for-effort style deep throating.

It’s all so intoxicating that Jack doesn’t care that Bitty just might scream loud enough for the neighbors to hear, doesn’t care that he’s fumbling as he pulls away and it takes more than one attempt to get up off the floor. Bitty looks so good, rumpled and breathing heavily as he leans against the counter, skirt bunched up slightly around his thighs, that Jack nearly just takes himself in hand and lets the sight before him bring him off. But he doesn’t want to waste a single ounce of this opportunity, so he snakes his arms around Bitty and turns him around, trailing one hand beneath the skirt and letting himself appreciate the toned muscles of Bitty’s ass, breath stuttering as he discovers that Bitty has apparently thought of everything.

“Bittle,” he gasps as his fingers take hold of the end of the plug.

“Jack,” Bitty stutters, then clears his throat. “Uh, je suis…oh fuck it.”

“Oui, monsieur,” Jack responds as he fumbles at his zipper and pushes his clothes out of the way, sighing in relief as he then carefully removes the plug.

It’s almost an assault on his senses, the feel of the silky, lacy fabric, but there’s something comfortably familiar about Bitty’s scent, the way he tastes, the way he feels on Jack’s cock, the stuttered moans he makes, the way he lays one hand over the hand that Jack has gripping his hip. 

**

“So you like the costume?”

Jack’s post-orgasm haze is mixing with their post-shower scent, and that combined with the comfortable weight of Bitty in his arms leaves a sense that the world can’t intrude upon them. “Mmm,” he replies, eyes half-lidded. “Was that a new outfit? I didn’t notice.”

“You’re sooo funny, Mr. Zimmermann.”


End file.
